


(Life is) God's Most Precious Gift

by orphan_account



Series: Cannot Sleep for Dreaming [1]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Angst and Feels, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Homophobia, Superpowers, empath!Delia, healer!Patsy, i'm actually really proud of this fic, not much but it influences behavior, not that much, patsy whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Almost all of the Nonnatus nurses have... abilities. Patsy Mount is no different. She can heal everything from a knife wound to a fever. When she and Delia return to Nonnatus house to visit, they learn that Barbara has fallen gravely ill. Patsy is instantly bound and determined to save her friend.Set late season 7.
Relationships: Delia Busby/Patsy Mount, background Tom/Barbara
Series: Cannot Sleep for Dreaming [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623526
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	(Life is) God's Most Precious Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So I apologize for throwing you straight into this au, all of the worldbuilding is in its sequel, which I started first. Basically, magic is known, respected, and sometimes feared. A person can magical abilities after a life-changing event-- for example, for Patsy it was losing her mother and sister in the war camps. Most but not all of the main characters have abilities of some sort, and their specific abilities are revealed as they come up through the story. Hope it makes sense!

Patsy and Delia have been traveling ever since they’d left Poplar. They’ve gone through the UK and even Europe, only spending a week or two in each place. All they need now is each other. And while seeing the world is amazing, as the weather gets colder, they find themselves drawn back to Poplar.

“Just for a visit,” Delia says.

“Of course. We’re going to see your mum for Christmas.”

Delia laughs. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Because they’re alone in their hotel room, with forty-five minutes until mandatory check out, Patsy doesn’t hesitate to kiss Delia on the cheek. “I know you miss her, Deels. We can go visit.”

“Even if she tries to marry me off to a new man every day?” Delia’s smile is teasing.

Patsy smiles right back and kisses the back of her hand. “I’m not worried… unless you’re planning on agreeing with her.”

Laughing, Delia shakes her head. “I’d run away with you-- again-- before I’d go on so much as a date.”

\---

Delia loves walking up the path to Nonnatus house, even more so with Patsy by her side. Their hands are linked, though hidden by their winter coats, and Delia draws warmth from Patsy’s radiating contentment. The empath expects to feel the usual sense of peace and cheer from Nonnatus house, but as they get closer, a dark, urgent worry grips her instead.

“Something’s wrong,” she murmurs, clutching Patsy’s hand tighter. Her girlfriend frowns.

“What’s that?” Patsy’s voice is quiet and confused.

“It feels wrong,” Delia says, wishing she could explain further. She can’t but Patsy knows. Patsy always knows.

“Do you think something bad has happened? What… what does it feel like?”

Delia shakes her head. Places never carry feelings as distinct as humans. “Just wrong. Like there’s a dark cloud.”

Patsy nods and quickens her pace, though, to Delia’s relief, she doesn’t let go of her hand. They ring the doorbell twice before the heavy door opens.

“Sorry,” apologizes a dark-skinned nurse with an exotic accent. Delia feels stress and worry surrounding her, but it seems muted, under control. “We’re a bit understaffed at the moment. Can I help you?”

“Oh, I’m Nurse Mount,” Patsy says. Delia doesn’t have to look at her to know she has a crease of confusion between her eyebrows. “This is Nurse Busby. We’re old friends, we were just stopping by, since we’re in town…”

“Come on in, then!” invites the new nurse. “I’m Nurse Anderson. I’ve been here for a few months; since Nurse Hereward got married. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Delia says, knowing Patsy sometimes forgets simple pleasantries.

“I’ll see if I can scurry you up some tea,” Nurse Anderson continues. “There should still be water in the kettle…”

Before she’s even out of the room, the door behind them bangs open again, making them all jump. Another woman bursts in, and at first, Delia only perceives her as a knot of hurt and worry. 

“Lucille, have you seen Phyllis? I was expecting her to drag Tom back here for a bit of lunch, but it’s a quarter past one already.”

“She left to get him maybe twenty minutes ago,” Lucille answers. “Valerie, we have guests.”

Now that she’s slowed down, Delia _does_ recognize the friendly brunette. “Valerie! So good to see you!”

Valerie grins in reply. “Oh, Patsy, Delia, the two of you are a sight for sore eyes.”

Several hugs and a kettle boiling later, they find themselves sitting in the living room. Patsy has asked several times if they’re keeping Valerie and Lucille from their work, but she’s been assured otherwise.

“What’s been happening?” Delia finally asks, shifting uncomfortably at the heavy mood in the air. “Everyone seems rather down…”

Valerie nods, but it’s a moment before she answers. “Barbara’s gotten sick,” she says quietly. “She’s been in the hospital just about a week.”

“Oh, no…” Delia’s heart sinks. She can tell from the emotions behind the words that ‘sick’ doesn’t exactly cover it, but of course, Patsy can’t.

“What do you mean, sick? I can help her,” she says eagerly, hope and determination radiating off of her like her nice perfume.

Delia feels another presence even before he speaks. She knows it must be Tom, because who else would it be, who else would be walking around drowning in grief and desperation like this? It comes in a wave, so strong that Delia is sure she would fall to the ground were she not sitting already.

“You can’t cure sepsis, Patsy,” Tom says, his gentle voice flat and numb. 

Patsy folds her arms, setting her tea aside. “I can bloody well try.”

“Cariad,” says Delia, forgetting herself, “you just about fainted after curing the Patel boy’s flu that time, do you remember?”

“Well, then,” huffs Patsy, “I’ll get Phyllis to help. Two of us are better than one.”

“You’d have to teach her,” argues Delia, shaking her head. It’s not that she doesn’t want Patsy to help Barbara, of course she does, but she’s seen people die of sepsis before. If Barbara has been hospitalized for a week, she must be barely holding on. Even if Phyllis could manage to share Patsy’s abilities, Delia doubts they could really heal Barbara.

“We all know she’d be willing.”

Delia looks helplessly at Tom, though she knows he’s not going to deny Patsy. She can feel the hope he clings to already. It burns her almost more painfully than his grief.

“Patsy, we don’t know what might happen to you,” she says softly, one last plea for caution.

Patsy is almost always guarded with her emotions, though she’s begun to let more through in their months away from London. Delia can feel her now, determination and frustration swirling around her, visible in the storm in her eyes. There’s no changing her mind, and they both know it.

“I’m going to help Barbara,” Patsy says quietly, forcefully. “Tom, whenever you go back to the hospital, I’m going with you.”

\---

Patsy is shoulder to shoulder with Delia as they enter the hospital ward. She doesn’t dare hold her hand now, coats or no. Instead, she focuses on taking deep breaths, thinking about helping Barbara, trying to prepare for the burn of touching someone so ill. Part of her is worried that she really won’t be able to do it, that she’ll try and fail and end up as bad as she was just before leaving the camp, totally spent from giving everything she had to heal others. Knowing Delia can feel the worry, however, she tries to shove it aside.

“Nurse Mount,” Phyllis says, surprise clear in her voice despite the quiet volume. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

“Just got in today,” Patsy replies, her voice smoothing reflexively, remembering her years working in hospitals. “When I heard about Barbara, I thought… I thought I could help.”

Now Phyllis, Patsy, Deila, and Tom all look down at the hospital bed. Barbara lies motionless, the only sign of life the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Even if you ignore the rash-- which is all but impossible-- her color is bad. Her skin is ashen except for where it’s blood red. Her hands seem to be the worst, her fingers almost entirely dark. Patsy reaches out without thinking, taking Barbara’s hand in hers. It’s cold, but she only has a split second to process that normal feeling before she feels how utterly drained Barbara is, how harsh of a toll the illness has taken already. Patsy takes a deep breath. “Phyllis,” she manages, “I might need your help.”

“Of course, lass,” comes the easy reply. “With what?”

Patsy holds Barbara’s hand tighter, waiting for the other three to trade looks and for Phyllis to catch on. She does, and quickly.

“No…” her voice is more hushed now. “Patsy, surely you can’t…”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” she hisses. _And every time it feels more true._ “Phyllis, I need you to help me. We can both help Barbara, I know it.” _I don’t even know if I can stand to touch her for much longer._ “I want you to hold my shoulders, Phyllis. You’ll be able to use my abilities, yes?”

“I could do it now if I was so inclined.”

“Good.” Patsy nods, trying to seem like she knows what she’s doing. “You’re not used to it, though. I don’t want you touching Barbara directly; I think the shock might be too much for you. But if you can hold me, and heal me as I’m healing her, it just might work.”

Phyllis gives her a long look, the kind that makes Patsy think Valerie isn’t the only one who can read minds. “Just might work, huh?”

She nods. “I’m already starting, sort of. Just take, I don’t know, my shoulder, and let go if it gets to be too much.”

“Too much?”

Swallowing, Patsy looks away, focusing on Barbara again. “You’ll know.”

For the whole conversation, the cold ache of illness has been crawling through her, fostered by Barbara’s hand in hers. Now, Patsy turns her full attention to the sensation, trying to force it away. She closes her eyes, pushing her own warmth to Barbara, trying to replace the sickening pain with health and vitality. Usually, it takes no more than a few minutes, and leaves Patsy a bit hungry but really no worse for wear. 

This is not what she usually does.

Patsy, unlike many, knows the extent of her powers. She knows that healing others drains herself, and if she goes too far, she’ll end up too sapped to stay conscious. Over the years, she’s gotten to tell where her edge is, where she needs to stop before passing the point of no return.

She doesn’t stop today. She pushes herself hard, harder than she has in months. It gets to the point where she can’t quite tell which feelings are hers and which are Barbara’s, losing herself in a rough, tumultuous sea of pain and exhaustion, no longer sure how to breathe. And then Phyllis lets go-- Patsy had known she would-- and it all gets so much worse.

Even when she’s overwhelmed, Patsy clutches harder at Barbara’s arm, hoping desperately for the breath of fresh air, the ray of sunlight, that will come when she’s managed to fight off the illness.

Instead, there is a wave of darkness.

\---

Delia barely processes Patsy falling, doesn’t even realize she herself has moved. All she knows is that one minute Patsy is half-bent over Barbara, getting paler with every second, and the next, she’s in Delia’s arms, utterly unconscious. Tom and Phyllis, the only two people present with any real control of themselves, are muttering worriedly.

Phyllis is closest to Delia. “Should we send for a doctor?”

“No,” Delia answers, shaking her head quickly. “They might not… hospitals sometimes don’t like the ones with powers. I don’t trust ‘em with her.”

“What happened?” Tom asks, his gaze flicking from Barbara to Patsy and back again. Is she… did she… what happened?”

“She pushed herself too hard,” Delia murmurs. “We have to get her out of here. Phyllis, can you drive us back to Nonnatus?”

“Of course.”

Delia tightens her hold on Patsy, idly wondering how to sneak an unconscious woman out of a hospital. “Tom, you’ll call if anything changes? Patsy will want to know…” she can’t finish the sentence, not when what she really means is _I need to know if it was worth it._ The thought is unbearably selfish but Patsy shows no sign of stirring and Delia’s heart is in her throat.

“I’ll keep you updated.”

She can only manage a nod, and then, with Patsy still in her arms, she follows Phyllis out of the hospital.

\---

Ordinarily, Delia would have dallied in the hallway, would’ve run her hands over the smooth oak banister, would’ve grinned at the sight of the rooms she and Patsy had spent so many nights in. Even if she was never officially a midwife with Nonnatus, the old house still feels like coming home… probably because she associates it so much with Patsy.

Tonight, however, there’s no time for relaxing, for basking, for taking it all in. With Phyllis’ help, she gets Patsy into an empty bed-- it had been Barbara’s, until the wedding, and that is the worst kind of coincidence. 

Patsy’s pulse is fluttery, her skin ashen and cold to the touch. Delia can’t bring herself to step away, even though she knows there are things that need to be done. Instead, she stays by Patsy’s side, letting Phyllis and Valerie and Lucille and the nuns flutter around them both, trying to care for her.

Part of Delia knows she’s being too obvious, that staying frozen like this, so worried she can’t breathe, is something she won’t be able to explain away. It’s times like this when she doesn’t care. And besides, with Valerie around… well, at this point, Delia would love it if a telepath were her worst concern.

“Hang in there, Pats,” she whispers, stroking Patsy’s hair when they’re eventually left alone. “You’ll be alright. You have to be.”

\---

Patsy dreams of her mother and sister. The dozen others who had fallen ill in the camps. Patients in the hospital, even in Poplar. Her father. All of the ones she couldn’t save.

Barbara joins them tonight, to Patsy’s dismay. She’s smiling and happy in the fog of the dream but when she touches Patsy’s arm her hands are far too cold, stealing all breath from her lungs.

The scene changes. A beach with her mother and sister. A childhood memory that should be happy but Patsy knows it is wrong even before her sister drifts out to sea, crying for Patsy’s help. Her mother doesn’t cry out, only follows her as a storm brews, thunder and lightning surrounding Patsy, who is now all alone on the beach.

She doesn’t know how long she dreams for, but the outside world begins to seep in. A cool cloth on her forehead. A warm hand on her cheek. And when she finally wakes, the first thing she sees is Delia.

“Delia,” she breathes. Her throat is dry, making her want to cough. Delia only smiles down at her, running her hands through Patsy’s hair.

“Hi, Cariad,” she murmurs. “Sleep well?”

Patsy shakes her head. “The dreams. The dreams always hurt.” Suddenly, she remembers why, exactly, she’s passed out in a bed at Nonnatus house. “Deels… how’s Barbara? Did it-- did it work?”

Delia’s face falls, telling Patsy the answer before she says a word. “I’m afraid not, Cariad,” she whispers, squeezing Patsy’s hand tight. “Phyllis just left… Tom got a call from the hospital. It’s… it doesn’t look good.”

Closing her eyes, Patsy leans into Delia, her head resting in her girlfriend’s lap. A crushing defeat swamps her, choking her up and making her want to cry. “No.”

“Well, we don’t know for sure…” Delia sounds like she’s trying not to cry. “She might wake. We don’t know.”

Patsy shakes her head. _I tried so hard… I really thought… I thought I could save her…_

“Deels?”

“Yes?”

She moves even more into Delia’s lap. “Could you just… hold me?”

Delia does. And Patsy stays in her arms, just like that, until she falls asleep again.

This time, it’s dreamless.

\---

Barbara does wake up. 

Patsy and Delia’s weekend visit turns into a week because, against all odds, Barbara wakes up, and what seems like all of Poplar celebrates. She’s nowhere near well enough to come home, of course, but she’s recovering. Every day, someone from Nonnatus visits at least once. Patsy and Delia visit the most-- aside from Tom-- due to the fact that they don’t have to be working.

They’re walking out, hoping for a diner with fish and chips, when Patsy learns there’s more to the story.

“Patsy,” Tom calls, following them quickly down the hall.

She turns, letting go of Delia’s hand. “Tom?”

“Sorry to startle you,” he says. “We just haven’t crossed paths this week. I wanted to say thank you.”

Patsy shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything.”

At her shoulder, Delia pipes up. “She’s made a miraculous recovery, Pats! Literally miraculous. That has your talents written all over it.”

Tom nods in agreement. “She… I swear she died, Patsy. I couldn’t feel her pulse, and she wasn’t breathing, and I thought I’d lost her, thought I’d lost everything…” he swallows hard, the memories clearly still painful.

Holding back a shudder of her own, Patsy shakes her head. “I don’t know, Tom. Maybe it was an honest-to-god water into wine type of thing; you’d know better that I. But I can’t bring people back from the dead, and I’ve never met anyone who can.” She shrugs. “I’m glad Barbara is recovering, but don’t give me all of the credit.”

Walking away once more, Patsy knows neither Tom nor Delia will believe that. Tom will brush it off, too wrapped up in relief and love for his wife, as he should be. Delia will tease her about modesty over their dinner. But Patsy know what it feels like to heal someone, and she hadn’t had any success with Barbara. Her recovery is either medicine or just plain luck, simple as that.

Well, that’s what she tells herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and keep an eye out for the sequel! I love to see comments and kudos, and if you want, you can come chat with me at nursebarbarahereward on tumblr!


End file.
